


A Little Tender, Love, And Care

by TheHuggamugCafe



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Girlfriend/Boyfriend, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Tumblr request, incubus!Akira
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-14 22:48:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16921899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheHuggamugCafe/pseuds/TheHuggamugCafe
Summary: There are a few downsides to falling ill.One: you’re sick.Two: chills, running nose, and the beginning of a fever.Three: you can hardly keep anything down.However…There are a few perks to being sick.One: you don’t have to go to work if it’s really bad.Two: around-the-clock care.Three: Akira is practically your live-in nurse.Maybe being sick isn’t so terrible.Sometimes.





	A Little Tender, Love, And Care

**Author's Note:**

> Gift to lonely--rolling--star on Tumblr. Thank you for placing an order, Star.

A cold.

A freaking _cold_.

There was nothing worse than lying in bed, curled up in blankets, shivering despite the thick sheets that covered you, sniffling or coughing every few seconds. Your body groaned and screamed in protest each time you moved, every time you shifted even slightly. The heat was on, and yet even that small comfort didn’t help you.

That, and you were almost positive that the onslaught of a fever was beginning to wrap its large, sickly hand around you. Indeed, a deep, aching chill shook you to your very core, and yet beads of perspiration trailed down your sweating crown.

“Achoo!”

You sniffed as your hands left the warmth of the thick blankets to reach for the box of tissues that was set on the coffee table to your left, removing one. You went through a painfully familiar ritual: blowing your nose.

You breathed a huff, your tired eyes staring at the globs of mucus that stained the bland tissue, pursing your lips as the snot-stained tissue was placed in the small trash bin next to the coffee table. Finally, you reached for the cup of tea, forcing yourself to sit up as the cup was raised to your lips.

You took a sip, and immediately your expression showed distaste. It had long since gone cold, your tongue darted out to lick your lips as your mouth parted.

“Akira?” you called, your soft shout echoing through the small, quaint apartment. 

Your voice was hoarse, and your words were as dry as a desert, and yet…

No sooner had your call reached him, you heard the telltale scuffle of footsteps quickly approaching you. A head of frizzy noiret hair peeked out from the corner, obsidian irises ogling you curiously with a flicker of quiet but clear concern.

“You called, dearest?”

You raised a hand, gesturing him over with one hand while raising your cup of tepid tea with the other. The onyx-eyed noiret sighed but, smiling slightly, approached you as you quietly requested.

“More tea?” he asked, staring down at you.

“Lemon, and yes, please,” you said, croaking out a reply.

Akira voiced a soft “tsk” as he leaned down, gently prying the cup of cold tea from your languid fingers.

He raised a hand, and you just barely managed to wheeze out a question.

“What are you doing?”

“Shh, shh. Just… Let me check.”

Sighing, you did as was asked of you, slumping back on the pillow that cradled your back, watching with a listless gaze as Akira’s hand slowly came to rest on your forehead.

Instinctively, you leaned into his touch, his cool touch that was a clear contrast to your forehead, which felt like it was on fire.

You couldn’t help but breathe a content sigh as Akira’s hand left your forehead, pressing his cool touch to your cheeks next, watching as you leaned into his touch once again.

Unfortunately, all good things came to an end, and there was no way he missed the disapproving whine you voiced as Akira withdrew his hand, staring down at you with a solemn visage.

“You have a fever. The beginning of one, anyway,” he said, earning a sluggish nod of agreement from you.

“I’ll be right back, darling.”

“No rush,” you whispered, swallowing what felt like a mouthful of saliva.

In what seemed like no time at all, Akira had indeed returned—carrying a serving tray of various necessities, that is.

Your tired eyes vaguely took notice of a bowl filled to the brim with icy water, a washcloth hanging off of its edge. There were other things as well: a steaming bowl of soup, and a cup of hot lemon tea. A spoon, a serviette, and a smile from Akira completed the appearance of a live-in boyfriend who was ready to take care of his girlfriend.

“Ugh,” you said, grimacing as your stomach was already doing flip-flops. 

The scent of Akira’s homemade soup was shoved up your stuffy nose. It was delicious, of that you had no doubt, but you had been eating very little the past few days. A simple bowl of soup and a cup of tea may as well have been a buffet to you… 

“You have to eat, Treasure,” Akira said, setting the serving tray down on the coffee table with a soft clink.

“This is your favourite, isn’t it?” he added, watching you as you looked away with a grimace.

However, there was no chance in Hell he missed the small smile that curled your lips. Akira’s warm onyx irises glinted, quietly pleased as he dipped the washcloth in the icy water. Rivulets of moisture rained down into the bowl, the washcloth was gripped by masculine fingers, wringing the washcloth before folding it.

“Now, then… Take it slow, alright? You don’t want to upset your stomach.”

You nodded as you reached forward, ready to take possession of the steaming bowl of soup—only to be halted by two things.

The first was the feeling of a cold washcloth being pressed to your sweating, hot forehead.

The second was a warm kiss pecking your cheek.

You sniffled, blinking sluggishly at your boyfriend.

“I’m _sick_ , Akira.”

Your words of concern only resulted in a smile.

“Demons can’t get sick, remember, love? Back to the matter at hand…”

Akira picked up the steaming bowl of soup and spoon, the soup spoon clinking around the bowl’s edge as a generous portion of the broth and ingredients was scooped up. You pursed your lips, but Akira was still smiling, smirking slightly.

“Now say ‘ahh’, sweetheart.”


End file.
